


Lost

by glitzyena



Category: IZONE (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Kim Chaewon, Mentions of Murder, Minor Character Death, Recreational Drug Use, gumiho!Kim Chaewon, pixie!Jo Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitzyena/pseuds/glitzyena
Summary: "You've done something bad, haven't you?" She doesn't phrase it like it's a question. "Good people don't end up here, pretty. What did you do?"Choi Yena has just killed a man, and Jo Yuri is sin with wings.Somehow, they get along just fine.
Relationships: Choi Yena & Jo Yuri, Choi Yena/Jo Yuri
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! i wrote this just under a year ago back in june of 2019, and now i'm publishing it here to start off my ao3 acc! i won't say too much cuz i don't wanna spoil anything, so i hope you enjoy! <3  
> -glitz
> 
> [my twitter!](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)

Yena pulls the break, the car slowing to a halt, worn tires gritting on the tarmac. The sky is bathed in black, thick grey clouds shrouding the stars and blocking out the cosmos. The area is dilapidated, with shattered window panes accompanying the crumbling, graffitied buildings. It's on the edge between two cities, where easy drug deals are sold, done and dealt without too much hassle, hidden in the night's shadows. Shitty love motels, bars and clubs and the like line the streets, the buzzing sounds of electricity and the occasional yelled threat adding to that lonely, fucked up aesthetic. A scent of alcohol and burning wafts through the vents in Yena's car, the flickering neon lights painting her skin bright, colourful tones.

She's just killed a man.

More specifically, her ex.

Yena had tried to tell him. She'd screamed at him over the phone, that they were _done_ , they were _over_ , and _fuck, please stop calling me!_ Her doorbell had been rung, over and over again into the early hours of the morning, insistent banging on her front door, accompanied by aggressive yells of let me in, Yena! You love me, so open up! She'd been able to do nothing other than rock back and forwards on her heels behind her bedroom door, her palms flat over her ears and mumbling useless pleas of _pluh- please I'm fucking begging just- just leave me alone._

So when he'd found her in the girl's bathroom, away from his lecture hall on the other side of campus, and leaned in to kiss her "just one last time, Yena,", Yena did what any other girl would've done.

Well, maybe not. But that's the only thing keeping her sane right now.

She'd pushed him away, hard, so hard that he'd stumbled into the sink, his head crashing into the mirror just above it. Yena'd watched with trembling hands as the glass shattered, littered on the ground beside his limp body. She'd felt sick to the stomach at the sight of blood pooling from the back of his head, glass shards embedded into his skull.

Yena didn't mean to kill him.

But he ended up dead anyway.

And now she's been driving and driving for god knows how long to just get rid of that fucking image of his glassy lifeless eyes boring into her own but- it doesn't matter. He was a fucking psycho and karma was just waiting for the right moment to dig her claws into him. No, what Yena's more concerned about now, is the fact that she has no idea where the fuck she is.

She's lost.

Hopelessly, helplessly lost.

Groaning as she passes a hand through her hair, she curses herself for not bringing her charger with her, her dead phone lying uselessly on her lap. She's been driving since noon, and with it now closing in on one a.m, Yena just really wants to go home.

And soju.

Soju sounds fucking great right now.

Abandoning all hope of finding her way home in the car, she gets out of it, deciding that the only way she's gonna get something out of this place is with the five thousand won note scrunched up in her back pocket. She shuts the car door behind her, the old thing shuddering upon impact, and throws her jacket around her shoulders.

The place doesn't look like anywhere she's ever seen before. Sure, she knows she'd driven far enough to escape the borders of the city, but not quite far enough to breach the walls of the next. But this place has an unnatural colouring to it, the dark too dark and the neon colours too saturated. It's like it's alive, the narrow, crumbling streets seeming to pulsate, like blood runs through the concrete holding the bricks together.

Yena starts to take a couple steps forward, calling herself crazy for even considering booking a room in one of those fucking love motels before a voice cuts through the silence.

"Are you lost?"

Yena whirls around, eyes narrowed as she searches for the source of the voice, but there's nothing there. She cranes her neck to look around but- no one. "Hello?"

An airy tinkle of laughter ricochets off the buildings, seeming to come from all around her. "Up here, pretty,"

Yena looks up at one of the flickering neon signs, and barely notices the gasp that tumbles from her lips because holy shit there's a girl up there.

She's a pretty girl, Yena thinks, sitting on that shitty, flickering neon sign like it's a fucking throne. Her chin is tilted up slightly, the light painting her skin strong tones of lilac. Her lips are curled upwards in an amused sort of smirk and- oh.

She's got wings.

Beautiful ones at that. They glow the colour of burning violets, bright and saturated and ethereal in every sense of the word. They flutter delicately behind her back, like a restless butterfly waiting to take flight.

"It's not nice to stare, pretty," the girl drawls, her voice like hot, thick caramel, rich and dark. "Lucky for you I'm so understanding,"

Yena's heard stories about urban pixies, of course, but none of the tales and fables had prepared her for something like this. This pixie is particularly alluring, much more than those in the tales of those who seduce foolish men to their deaths. Her cherry coloured lips are turned upwards to one side, her gaze smooth and lethargic as she stares Yena down. Her skin is the colour of milky coffee, stars spangled on her cheekbones and moonlight in her eyelashes. She's dressed in black, a dress mimicking the colour of the sky, and her sleek brown hair is drawn tight into a high ponytail.

"Not much of a talker, hm?" The pixie seems to be almost mocking her as she leans forward. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"

Yena swallows. "Was just driving," she mumbles, looking down.

The pixie hums. "You've done something bad, haven't you?" She doesn't phrase it like it's a question. "Good people don't end up here, pretty. What did you do?"

 _Fuck._ Yena thinks to herself. _How does she know?_ Yet even still, she finds her words spilling past her lips before she can even stop herself. "He was gonna kiss me," she takes in a shuddered breath. "So I- I pushed him away and he hit the mirror and it broke and _fuck_ he was just _there_ ,"

The pixie hums, drawn out and low. "You killed him?"

Yena, very slowly, nods her head.

The pixie, for whatever reason, nods her head. "You did the world a favour, pretty. Men are fucking pigs," she arches a brow. "You know the guy?"

"My ex,"

The pixie grins at her. "Even better. So what's your name then, hm?"

Yena hesitates, and the pixie rolls her eyes.

"You look like I'm about to bite your fucking face off, chill. You'd almost think it was you talking to the murderer," her eyes glimmer, and Yena lets herself relax a little.

"I'm Yena,"

"Yena," the pixie repeats her name, like she's testing out how her name sounds on her tongue. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm Yuri," the pixie - _Yuri_ \- begins to bat her wings, jumping off of the sign and gently floating down to the ground to stand in front of Yena. "You look like you need to loosen up a little, and to be honest with you, I'm really fucking bored," she holds out a hand invitingly. "Wanna get high?"

And Yena, being the educated young woman that she is, knows that if a pretty girl - mythical or not - offers you free drugs, you undoubtably take them. So, she takes Yuri's hand. "Sounds like a fucking dream,"

"You said that to come to a place like this, you had to have done somethin' bad," Yena's words are a little slurred as she speaks around the joint in her mouth. She takes it from between her lips and blows softly, a cloud of smoke billowing outwards and dissipating into the chilled air. "What did you do?"

They're both sat on a curb on the side of the street, a skyscraper from a far off city soaring above them. Yuri, Yena's learned, is good company. She doesn't ask too many questions, and talks like they've known each other for years. Yena's been slowly submerged in her intoxicating tone all night, drowning in hot caramel that oozes over her but _shit_ it feels so fucking good. To top it all off, Yuri is, like _fuck,_ she's the most beautiful thing Yena's ever laid her eyes on.

She's got good fucking weed too.

Yuri chuckles in that fucking deep voice of hers, wings fluttering restlessly behind her. "Pretty," she sighs. "Do you not know?"

"Know what?"

"About urban pixies?"

Yena shrugs. "Know you're kinda like sirens, like you seduce men and then kill them and stuff,"

"And _stuff_ ," Yuri repeats with a scoff. She takes the joint from between Yena's fingertips, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into her face. Yena coughs, swatting the smoke away. "Don't even think about comparing me to a siren," Yuri huffs. "Dirty bitches. No fucking class,"

Yena tries her best not to laugh, keeping her face as straight as possible. "Because sitting in the middle of the street smoking with a fucking murderer is just about as classy as it gets,"

Yuri sends her a look, choosing to ignore her remark. "Urban pixies, we're outcasts. We're the outcome of what happens when your colony kicks you out to live in the streets,"

Yena rests her chin in her palm, genuinely interested. "And why'd you get kicked out?"

Yuri's eyes darken, lips curling upwards in a way that definitely that shouldn't be as attractive as it is. "I'm a sinner,"

Yena feels her throat tighten. "What-" she swallows thickly. "What did you do?"

Yuri hums in contemplation. "Greed, pretty. I was greedy for fucking everything. Attention, control," her eyes gleam. "Money,"

Yep, that _definitely_ shouldn't be as attractive as it really is. "So they kicked you out?"

"Mmh," Yuri stretches leisurely, passing the joint to Yena. "Best day of my fucking life. This place- I fucking _thrive_ in it, pretty. And, what was it you said? I seduce men and kill them and stuff?" She bumps Yena's shoulder, who mumbles something along the lines of _shut the fuck up._ "Yeah, I take them back to my super secret underground lair and deep fry their intestines,"

"Oh my god, that's disgusting,"

"Very nutritious,"

"Shut _up,_ damn,"

Yuri chuckles. "Not gonna lie, I'm fucking stoned,"

"Same,"

"So what's your plan now?"

Yena pauses for a moment before replying. "What?"

"Don't know if you remember, but you killed a man,"

Yena shrugs half heartedly, picking at a hangnail. "I don't fucking know." She sighs. "There's probably cctv footage of me walking into the bathroom, and coming out in the time he was killed. It won't take long for people to put two and two together," she's oddly calm as she takes a drag of the joint. "I just kinda wanna run away,"

"You kind of already have,"

"People will find me though. I don't want to be found,"

Yuri stands up, wings fluttering restlessly, carrying her feet just millimetres off the ground. "Well then lets go to a place where you'll never be found,"

Yena raises a brow. "Such as?"

"A place where it's easiest to get lost," 

When Yuri came out with her deep, philosophical idea of going to _a place where it's easiest to get lost,_ Yena'd really expected more then the generic nightclub that she'd been dragged into. Yuri's wings had dissipated into nothingness once the crowd of people was in sight, making her seem like just a normal, average girl.

Though Yena realises that Yuri didn't mean for her to get lost physically. More metaphorically. Lost in the music, lost in the crowd, the alcohol, the ecstasy of it all.

She's young, Yena notices, probably younger than she is. Her eyes are wide, like a doe's, and there's a healthy flush to her cheeks. "Hey!" She yells at the pixie over the sounds of the deep base thrumming through her body. "How old are you anyway?"

Yuri turns to her after ordering two drinks at the bar. "Me?" She asks. "Four hundred and fifty something. I lost count at three hundred, to be honest,"

Yena thinks she's joking.

But Yuri's looking at her like she's completely serious.

"Wait- like, for real?"

Yuri nods. "But to you I'm probably what, seventeen?"

"So underaged,"

"But also like, six times the age of your grandmother,"

Yena grimaces. "Bringing my grandma into this is the biggest turn off,"

Yuri laughs, a full, healthy sound that has Yena's heart performing a gymnastics routine inside her chest. "Being this attractive all the time gets boring after a while, pretty,"

"Can't relate,"

"Oh shut up," Yuri gives her shoulder a light shove. "I'm not calling you pretty for nothing, you know. I'm quite literally fucking _divine,_ I don't usually waste my time on humans," she scans Yena's form slowly, eyes narrowed. "You _are_ human, right? Not some kinda fae? Hybrid, maybe?" Yena doesn't know if she's serious or not when she reaches out and pats her head, searching her head for ears. Yena swats her hand away.

"No, I'm definitely human. Have a few friends who are hybrids though. Nymphs, a gumiho. But no pixies,"

Yuri seems pleased at that, a smug look on her face. "That's because we're rare,"

"Yeah, thank fuck for that,"

Yuri gasps loudly, delivering a light slap to Yena's shoulder. "You bitch!"

"Mh, thanks," Yena mumbles, mind just fuzzy enough to provide a pleasant buzz beneath her skin.

Yuri raises a brow. "You drunk already? Cute,"

Yena flips her off lazily, slouching in her seat. "Fuck you, I'm high too,"

"So am I, but you don't see me complaining," she reaches out, giving Yena's arm a gentle shake. "C'mon, you haven't even danced with me yet,"

That pikes Yena's interest. "Dance, huh?"

Yuri grins slyly. "You any good?"

Yena leans in a little closer to her. "I think," she pauses, taking another sip of her drink. "That you'd have a hard time keeping up with me,"

Yuri leans in too, eyes wild as she bites her lower lip to suppress a grin. "You talk big game, pretty,"

Yena hops off her stool, walking backwards towards the crowd. "Well let me show you that I can dance better than I can talk,"

Yuri follows her, eyes glimmering like pools of diamonds and _shit_ she's gorgeous. "By all means," she smiles, overly sweet. "Let's get lost, hm?"

Yena gets lost in the feeling of the music, in the feeling of warmth spreading beneath her skin, in the strobe lighting slicing through the dark.

She gets lost in Yuri.

The rest of the night kinda blurs after that. Yena remembers taking Yuri's hand and dragging her to the dance floor, where they drowned in bodies and the smell of sweat and perfume. She just let the feeling of the music to take over, letting her body move however it pleased in time with the music. A flush had bloomed on her cheeks when Yuri leaned in close, her teasing whisper of _you're not half bad, pretty_ still heard over the throbbing EDM.

She has vague recollections of them going back to the bar, Yuri's fringe plastered to her forehead with perspiration as she orders more shots. Nothing much comes to mind other than the burning in her throat as the alcohol travelled down into her system, making her judgement even more clouded and the strobe lighting even brighter. They laughed about something, at some point, Yena laughing so hard that she nearly fell off the bar stool, and Yuri having tears in her eyes.

Then they'd danced again, though differently than last time. This time, Yuri was closer to her, her breath tickling the underside of Yena's jaw as she guided Yena's hands to come to a rest on her waist. She snaked her own arms around Yena's neck, smirking gently as her body moved tantalisingly in time with whatever R&B track had been playing at that moment.

Yeah, she definitely wasn't human. No human could ever look like that.

Now, they're in the bathroom, smoking another shared joint. It smells like death, grime on the walls and the light above them flickering ominously. Yuri's sat on the toilet seat inside one of the cubicles, and Yena's sat on the rim of the sink. The smoke hangs thick in the room, having nowhere to go, drawing red into the whites of their eyes. If Yena thought she was fucked before, then she's _really_ out of it now, not too sure if the neon light encircling Yuri's form is the toxicity in her system, or the fact that the other is literally fucking magic.

"This boy of yours," Yuri breathes out a ring of smoke, and Yena swears it carries lilac light with it. "What was he like before you broke up?"

Yena sighs, wringing her hands in her lap. "Real sweet," she replies. "Like fuck, I swear at some point I could've imagined a whole life with him," she fiddles with the ring on her finger, face turning sour. "Then I told him I was bi and he started acting weird,"

"Homophobe?" Yuri queries.

"Nah," Yena shakes her head. "I mean, I don't think so. Like I don't think he was crazy comfortable with it, but not because it was he was against it. More like he was against the idea that I could be..." she trails off, looking up at the ceiling and scrunching up her face in thought, trying to find the right words. "I think the way he percepted it was I could like, I don't know, be attracted to double the amount of people? You know what I mean. I think that's what he was nervous of," she shudders. "I mean, he'd always been kinda possessive, saying I was his and stuff, and I'd always thought it to be really cute. But then it started to get way too severe, like he'd barely let me out to see, like anyone," she inhales shakily, refusing to look up from her hands. "Remember I told you I have a friend who's a gumiho?"

Yuri's face turns sympathetic. "I knew a gumiho, once. A broken thing, really. Gumiho often are,"

Yena nods. "That's one way to describe Chaewon. My ex told me I wasn't allowed to see her out of fear that she'd eat my liver or some bullshit," she scoffs. "She's been abstaining for over seven hundred days now, and even though he _knew,_ he still tried to feed me that pathetic fucking excuse," she digs her nails into her palms. "Fuck, if Chaewon didn't care so much about losing that damned fox spirit I'd feed her his entire fucking corpse,"

Yuri leans forward, passing Yena the joint. "So it was you who broke it off, I'm assuming,"

Yena nods, taking the joint between her fingertips and inhaling a slow drag before responding. "Chaewon's like my best friend, you know?" The smoke escapes her lips as she speaks. "Cutting her off from me because he thought I'd fall in love with her was the final fucking straw,"

They're enveloped in silence for a few moments, save for the dull sound of metal on metal from Yuri constantly flicking her lighter, and the muffled, voluptuous beats snaking their way beneath the bathroom door. Yena looks at Yuri, like she really looks at her. Her wings had sprouted from her back once they were alone, illuminating the room bright hues of purple. Her eyes take on the light, glimmering in the low violet light. There's something intoxicating about the way her lithe, dainty hands caress the smoke wafting between them, so small and beautiful contrasting with something so deadly.

"What else do you know about urban pixies, pretty?" Yuri doesn't look at her when she breaks the silence, instead opting to examine her non-existent split ends at the end of her ponytail.

Yena swallows, picking up on the edge in Yuri's tone, yet not quite knowing what it means. She tries to rack her brains, thinking of all the fables she'd been told in her lifetime about Yuri's kind. "That you're dangerous," Yena starts. "You're always painted as something beautiful, but never to be trusted,"

Yuri purses her lips. "A lot of pixies are bitter once they're labelled as outcasts. Though, since they're the kind to get kicked out of their colonies, they think taking it out on others is the best option," she smiles to herself, though it's a little sad. "I'm just looking for a good time,"

And that's when it hits Yena.

"Yuri,"

"Mmh,"

"Are you lonely?"

Yuri sucks in a sharp breath. She draws her knees under her chin, hugging her legs close to her chest. Like she's trying to make herself look smaller. "Loneliness is a bitch," she mumbles against her kneecaps. "She gets inside your head and starves you from the inside out," she closes her eyes, taking in a slow breath. "Being lonely wasn't something I'd ever considered, but _fuck,_ the colony ensures that no matter what, loneliness is a reminder of what could've been,"

Yena furrows her brow. "How?"

Yuri's eyelids open, and their gazes lock. "Think, pretty," her voice sounds pained. "What else do you know?"

Yena racks her brain again, and she _tries,_ she really does, to recall everything she can about urban pixies. "I know that pixie colonies themselves are... kinda conservative?" Yuri nods at her words, so Yena takes it as a sign to keep going. "Like, they don't really like to branch out among other species. Like, no offence, but kinda xenophobic,"

Yuri just nods again, rolling her wrist lazily as a signal for Yena to carry on. "So what does that mean?"

There's a puzzle in the back of Yena's mind that's slowly piecing itself together, but she doesn't want to believe it. "A pixie..." she speaks slowly, wanting to make sure she and Yuri are on the same page. "Can't love someone of a different species,"

"But?"

"Yuri, please-"

"Just keep talking, Yena,"

Yena blinks at her for a moment, the forgotten joint slipping from between her fingers and falling soundlessly to the floor.

Yuri looks terrified.

"But," Yena inhales. "But if they do, then their lover-" she grimaces with a shudder. "Then their lover has to tear off their wings,"

Her words hang in the air, thick and heavy, and Yena prays that the stories she'd been told were nothing more than just that - _stories._

"Or else?"

Yena looks at her pleadingly. "Don't make me say it,"

Yuri lifts up her chin. "Then kiss me," she breathes. "Then kiss me or let me die,"

And it's stupid. It's stupid that she's killed her ex, it's stupid how drunk she is, it's stupid that's she's high in the bathroom of a shitty club, it's stupid that a pixie she's only known for a couple hours has fallen in love with her. That she wants to kiss her.

It's stupid that Yena's never wanted anything so bad.

So she blames it on intoxication, when she stays still as Yuri stands up, when she walks towards her, pushes her thighs apart and stands between them. Yuri's breath breaks on her lips, her eyes locked on the exact same place. "I hate you," she whispers, face morphing into a glare. "I hate that I have to lose my wings for you," despite her words, she cups Yena's neck with care, her skin cold to the touch.

"Then don't," Yena replies, just as quiet. "Don't love me,"

Yuri glare strengthens, and never before had Yena ever thought that so much hate and so much love could be carried with just one look. "You say it like it's so simple," she hisses. She presses her lips together, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't even like my wings that much," there's hot, angry tears in her eyes, her voice breaking as she speaks. "I just hate that I'm losing them to you so quickly, I hate that I barely knuh-know you but I- _fuck,_ I like you so much," he hides her face in Yena's shoulder. "I'm the higher being," she mumbles frustrated into Yena's shirt. " _I_ should be in control,"

 _She's lonely._ Yena thinks. _She's lonely and she needs reassurance that she can maintain control._ "Listen," she whispers into Yuri's ear, able to feel her shudder with how close they're pressed together. "My ex died on the same day I met you. Maybe this is something out of something _both_ of our control. Maybe this was fate,"

Yuri retracts from her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. "Fuck," she breathes, and a small, slow smile spreads on her lips. "You sound fucking insane when you say it like that,"

"Mm, I suppose," Yena hooks a finger beneath Yuri's chin, the other brushing beneath Yuri's eyes before resting on her waist. "Please don't cry," she adds, voice softer. "Don't cry because of me,"

Yuri's hands travel down Yena's neck, tugging lightly her insistently on the collar of her shirt. "Then kiss me," her voice cracks. "Kiss me and I'll stop crying,"

Yena's breath hitches, subconsciously winding her legs tighter around Yuri's hips.

"Get lost with me,"

Yena leans in closer, so close that Yuri's lips brush against her own when she speaks.

"I don't wanna be found,"

And so, Yena kisses her. It's slow, without haste, getting a feel for the way Yuri touches her. Yuri's lips are soft, moving in time with Yena's own, and she tastes salty from her tears. Tastes like smoke and alcohol and caramel and _fuck_ it's addicting.

One of Yuri's hands travels down, down to rest on Yena's thigh. She gives her flesh a squeeze, causing Yena to gasp loudly. Yuri takes the opportunity to duck her head, pressing butterfly kisses down the column of Yena's throat. "Shit," Yena breaths, locking her ankles around the small of Yuri's back. "Fucking shit, Yuri,"

"Say it again," Yuri murmurs against her skin, rubbing her thumb in slow circles against Yena's thigh. "Say, my name again, pretty,"

Yena squeezes her eyes shut as she wraps her arms around Yuri's neck to draw her impossibly closer. " _Y-Yuri,"_

"Yeah," Yuri breathes out slowly, before moving back up to Yena's lips. "Just like that,"

She kisses her again, with more intention than before, like the pace had been too slow for her. She kisses Yena like the world is burning, like tongues of flame are licking at their skin and they're the lady people alive. She breaks away, breathing heavier than before. "My wuh-wings." She manages, lips shiny in dark. Her eyes are glassy. "Fuh-fucking rip them off, pretty,"

And Yena learns that it's impossible to deny Yuri anything.

She reaches out towards the pixie's back, tracing her finger along her spine until he locates the spot where Yuri's wing meets her skin. Slowly, she starts to move her finger down, building up pressure until she feels something tear.

"Fuck!" Yuri curses loudly, her nails digging into the area between Yena's shoulder blades. "Fuck," she repeats. "Fuck, _shit,"_

"Does it hurt?"

"Yuh-yeah," Yuri's mouth lolls open, just slightly. "Do it again,"

And Yena does.

She keeps tearing, keeps ripping, keeps blocking out Yuri's pained screams, her pleads to stop but _fuck, please keep going._ She ignores the hot substance that oozes from Yuri's skin in the areas where her wings were torn, ignores the guilt that bubbles in her chest like bile.

She keeps tearing, mumbling repeated, useless apologies of _I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry,_ until there's a pair of dull, lifeless wings on the ground in front of her.

Yuri passed out long ago, probably because of pain, and now she lays lifeless in Yena's arms. Yena looks down at her, face sickly pale, dainty fingers closing around nothing in what had been an attempt at holding Yena's hand.

 _Fuck,_ she thinks to herself.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_What have I done._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kudos and a comment! i'd really appreciate it :))
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/glitzyena)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/glitzyena)


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